


A Wash

by OceanTheSoulRebel



Series: Escaping the Cage [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, non-sexy bathtime, what a shame - I know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanTheSoulRebel/pseuds/OceanTheSoulRebel
Summary: A quiet moment between battles, they have a quick moment to chat before the world presses in.





	A Wash

Ilya limped toward the water immediately after they made camp, still bloodied by the earlier ambush on the road. “Blight take the bandits, the darkspawn, and the damn Regent Loghain, may the earth swallow them all whole,” she muttered, angrily waving off her companions as she stalked weakly toward the sound of the river.

It was a good camp location, a clearing in the forest with fresh, running water not far away. Provided they didn’t succumb to their - admittedly minor - wounds in the night, they could likely even take the opportunity to wash their clothes.

But fuck it; for now the river was going to be a bathtub, and not even darkspawn could keep her from the water. Ilya stripped herself of her armor, tossing her leathers against a nearby tree trunk and peeled down to her smalls. The river didn’t look too fast, nor did it look particularly jagged as she observed the rock bed through the rushing water. She dropped her bathing kit at the river’s edge and carefully waded into the water, settling into a natural pool that had the current rushing about her waist.

“You know, I’ve heard that bathing is more effective with the accompanying supplies.”

Ilya leaned back to submerge her hair, the cold water chilling her ears and pebbling her nipples under her thin breast wrap. “Luckily for me, I brought soap.” She rose to scrub the blood and sweat from her long tresses. “Speaking of, hand that to me, would you?”

Zevran complied, handing her the small box of supplies. He toed off his boots to submerge his feet in the river for but a moment before leaping out indignantly.

 _“Braska,_ that’s cold!” He eyed her warily. “How are you not frozen? How do you Southerners live like this?”

“Not all of us are hothouse flowers, Zevran,” Ilya answered with a lazy wave of her palm. “You’d think you’d be used to it already. Here, I’ll make it better.” She rose to her knees to arrange a makeshift dam around the pool, widening the relatively deep recess to better facilitate the experience. Satisfied with her work, she took another few rocks and drew fire runes on them before placing them in the water around the pool.

“Give it a minute and it will be warm enough, even for your standards.” She turned back to her hair, retrieving the rough bar of soap from her kit and rubbing it into her hair.

Zevran lingered at the edge of the water. She was always surprising him, it seemed, treating him with wary kindness, even despite their first meeting. Listening to him, prodding him for tales of Antiva, of his ‘adventures,” as she called them. Even now, giving him comfort in something as sundry and mundane as bathing, with no reason to do so.

“Are you always this… accommodating?” he asked, even as he unbuckled his armor. 

Ilya snorted. “Accommodating of what? You have a need, I fill it. Seems to be my lot in life right now, so it’s not like it’s trouble.” Her hand slapped the surface of the water beside her. “Now get over here, you’re as filthy as I am.”

Well. Who was he to disobey?

He slipped into the water, his own bathing kit at hand. There was just enough room for them both, if they took turns with their hair, and he tended to himself easily as he kept her in the corner of his eye. “You’re still bleeding,” he murmured. “From the fight.”

“Well, that would explain why my hair’s still bloody,” she huffed. A short burst of green light filled her palm and dissipated along her hairline as she held her hand to her temple. Ilya turned to face him, her green eyes more vivid for the slight tinge of battle mania that still resided there. “Better?”

Zevran rose to his knees and moved before her, his hands on either side of her head as he gingerly ran his fingers through her hair. Ilya winced but otherwise didn’t flinch from his touch. He pursed his lips for a moment before nodding and sitting back against the makeshift wall. “Better, indeed. I can help you wash your hair, if you’d like,” he offered.

He counted a full breath of her hesitation, but she nodded her head, surprising him once more. Ilya turned to face away from him, handing him the bar of soap. His long fingers carded through her hair, working the thin lather through the strands.

“They think we’re fucking, you know.”

His hands stilled for a moment before scrubbing again. “Do they, now?”

“Probably because we’re elves. I suppose that must make some sort of sense to them.”

Zevran cupped his hands into the water to pour it over her head. “And what do you think of that?”

Ilya snorted. “That one, it’s none of their business; two, it wouldn’t be because we’re elves; and three, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

He rinsed the last of the bubbles away from her hair, smoothing the long locks through his fingers. “Is that so.”

“It’s the Blight, Zevran. And I know you’re on the run, and think you owe me some sort of life-debt. I’m not into taking advantage of people, especially people who believe they need to swear fealty to me, even as badly as we got off at first.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Do you want me to do you now?”

Zevran blinked. “Ah, come again?”

“Your hair. Your turn?”

“Ah. Yes, please.”

They changed positions and she snorted as she undid the braids at his temple. “What did you think I said?”

“I simply misheard you, dear Warden, nothing more.” Her fingers raked through his hair, “Would it be so bad, to seek comfort?” he asked carefully.

Ilya hummed behind him. “Comfort is hard to come by on the road, just like at the Circle. Don’t know that I’d recognize it, even if I found it.” She worked the soap into his hair, taking care not to pull. She had noticed how he took the time to brush it in the morning and as they settled into camp, some self-care ritual that hopefully helped him settle in on the road. It was… it was beautiful, when he wasn’t covered in dirt and blood. “Here, dip down.”

She held his head in her lap and rinsed his hair, his honey-brown gaze focused sharply on her face. Ilya raised her brow as their eyes met. “See something you fancy, Serah Crow?”

Zevran frowned slightly, his fingers twitching at his side against the rocky riverbed. “I fancy many things. I fancy things that are beautiful and things that are strong. I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting.” He paused, gauging her reaction, watching for every small twitch that might betray her inner thoughts. “Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?”

She couldn’t hold his gaze for long, intense despite his easy words. “A master assassin and a would-be thief of hearts, I see,” she said with a soft chuckle. Ilya ran the edge of her palm across Zevran’s brow, chasing away the last of the soap from his hairline. “I’ll have to keep my eye on you, else you might rob me blind.”

It wasn’t an outright rejection, he realized as he rose, though also not an endorsement to carry on. They continued their bath in a companionable silence broken only by the gurgling of the river. Ilya climbed back up the riverbank, drying herself briskly with the ragged fabric of her worn towel, and turned back to the water. He would give her time to return to their companions, as was his wont, to prove he had not done anything untoward to her before joining them back at camp.

“Zevran.”

He turned toward her once more.

Ilya tugged her leathers back into place, her fingers stumbling over the metal clasps tiredly. “The quiet, the… this, the companionship here -” she gestured between them with her hand “- it’s, ah, nice. Thank you.”

She disappeared into the lengthening shadows of the forest and headed back to camp, leaving him at the river.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr at [ocean-in-my-rebel-soul!](https://ocean-in-my-rebel-soul.tumblr.com)  
> 
> 
> Comments and concrit always appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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